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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22992166">The View From Halfway Down</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/UselessLesbianLaughter/pseuds/UselessLesbianLaughter'>UselessLesbianLaughter</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Supergirl (TV 2015)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Accidental Cuddling, Angst, Angst and Humor, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/F, First Kiss, Gallows Humor, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Intense, Lena Luthor Knows Kara Danvers Is Supergirl, Lena Luthor Needs a Hug, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, SuperCorp</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 07:28:24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,470</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22992166</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/UselessLesbianLaughter/pseuds/UselessLesbianLaughter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The whole thing’s quite stupid, really. There’s a pesky wind, combined with Lena’s newfound habit of keeping her balcony doors wide open in the dead of winter for reasons she will not be discussing, thank you very much, which leads to an important document flying, much like an overconfident chicken, off her desk and out of the window.</p><p> She rushes after it and sees it get caught on one of her window frames. Lena Luthor, renowned genius, chess prodigy, it logically follows she’d be dumb of ass when it comes to common sense. She goes after it, making her way across the building's ledge 45 stories from the ground. She sees things much more clearer there than from the ground, an idea festers in her mind, taking over. Wouldn't it be nice to step into the unknown, far away from all her problems? </p><p>Then Supergirl shows up. Because of course she does. Because she always bloody does.</p><p>S5</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Kara Danvers/Lena Luthor</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>366</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The View From Halfway Down</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I'm currently working on a few bigger projects so while I'm doing that, I thought I'd post some quick oneshots I wrote while, often enough, quite intoxicated. Note that this one might be triggering as it deals with themes of suicide, it is loosely, and I emphasize loosely, based on real life experience. I know people mostly come to fanfic for fluff and comfort but I am, unfortunately, infected with the poetry, forgive me. I know people would read my work more if I wrote things that were lighter and funnier and, granted, this is not light, but it is funny if you give it a chance.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> The whole thing’s quite stupid, really. There’s a pesky wind, combined with Lena’s newfound habit of keeping her balcony doors wide open in the dead of winter for reasons she will not be discussing, thank you very much, which leads to an important document flying, much like an overconfident chicken, off her desk and out of the window.</p><p> She rushes after it and sees it get caught on one of her window frames. It’s hanging there by a thread, Lena understands immediately that if she was to try and open the window from the inside, it would surely fall and she’d never see it in one piece again.</p><p> Lena Luthor, renowned genius, chess prodigy, it logically follows she’d be dumb of ass when it came to two things- common sense and her own emotional wellbeing. The ledge, from the comfort of her warm and well-lit penthouse, seems plenty wide enough to walk on, so, grabbing onto the row of bricks that stands out at a convenient height, she goes out there to fetch it. She’s half-way there and going strong when she makes the grave mistake of looking down. All air leaves her lungs immediately. Her heart speeds up, she’s hyperventilating.</p><p><em> Just a few more steps.</em> She tells herself. <em>I’m so close.</em></p><p> Regaining her confidence, she takes another step. Another look down. She’s standing a precise 45 stories from the ground. She feels the wind in her hair. The cover of tomorrow’s paper flashes in front of her eyes. <em>Lena Luthor, 27, sister of Lex Luthor, most notable for her association with Supergirl, took her own life last night.</em> It makes front page but not main story, crammed into one of those little boxes you’d have to really squint to see when passing a kiosk, in between <em>Jessica and Justin’s locker room hook-up</em> and <em>High-waisted jeans: yes or no?</em> Underneath it, an ad for a dental clinic.</p><p> Intrigued, she lifts one foot from the ledge and makes the motion of stepping into the unknown, dangling it in the air as if testing out how it feels. Her breaths have grown short and slight. She’s quite forgotten about the document now, she’s feeling so oddly at peace.</p><p> She’s always though she’d die a violent death, an assassination, most likely. She’s never thought she’d take her own life. But this, this feels like relief. This feels like coming home after the longest time overseas, this feels like she is one step away from a long-overdue mum hug, one leap of faith away from freedom.</p><p> It does not take long for her to have left the ledge without moving an inch, she’s watching herself from above, seeing the leap, the crash, the crack of her bones, her limbs twisted in all the wrong ways like a puppeteer’s marionette, sans strings, tossed carelessly aside, with blood dripping from her lips, scattering into the pavement like a flock of cardinals. She’s yet to consider whether she enjoys this picture of herself before she is pulled, by force, back to her body, with a leg dangling over the edge, still, hands clutching bricks spread out on each side like a woman crucified.</p><p> “Lena?” a familiar voice calls out.</p><p> “Supergirl?” Lena asks, a sharp edge to her tone implying offence taken. She promptly removes her foot from where it was hovering, “what the hell are you doing here?”</p><p> “I could ask you the same thing,” Kara says and Lena sees her immediately regretting it, “Lena, please don’t do this, I-”</p><p> Lena laughs. It is not a nice sound. But she does not know what else to do.</p><p> “My god, Kara, you don’t seriously think I’m trying to off myself, do you? That’s not very on brand, wouldn’t you say?” she mocks.</p><p> “Well, forgive me for assuming but this, you, I,” she stutters, “what else could you be doing?” she blurts out. Lena scoffs.</p><p> “There was a gust of wind. It blew an important document out of the window, look, it’s right over there,” she said, gesturing with her head towards the window that, indeed, still had a flimsy piece of paper dangling from it, “came to fetch it.”</p><p> “Are you insane? Risking your life over a piece of paper?” Kara grows accusative without realizing it until it’s too late.</p><p> “And who are you to tell me what to risk my life for? You don’t control me anymore,” she paused, fuming, looking for any and all accusations she could throw at Kara, “How’d you even get here?”</p><p> Kara hesitated before answering but, realizing another lie would only dig their collective grave deeper, she said in earnest, “Your heartbeat.”</p><p> “My heartbeat?” enough fury conjured into those two words that she’d accused Kara of stalking her in a million ways without saying anything.</p><p> “I, I listen for it,” her words are barely breath leaving her lips, “it was so, so fast. I thought you were in danger.”</p><p> “It’s not your job to protect me!” Lena asserts and takes several confident steps towards the document still dangling from the window like Romeo at Juliet’s balcony, two of them safe, the third, unlucky one, slips and takes her with. Time neither stands still nor slows down nor speeds up. Either way, it doesn’t really matter. The unfortunate thing about time was that once you were going one way, you were going for good. Much the same could be said about gravity, being added to Lena’s growing list of enemies as we speak, and as she’s falling.</p><p> Kara catches her, of course. She always does. She flies her into the safety of her living room. As her feet softly touch the floor, she goes to put Lena down. But Lena doesn’t let go. She wants to, for her honour, her pride, her dignity. But she can’t. She is petrified and thus glued to Kara because one falls in love with death the way one falls in love with a person who they definitely shouldn’t fall for. And Lena fell in love with death just like she fell in love with Kara. Head over heels in the blink of an eye without even realizing it, and learned, too late, that falling always ends with crashing (unless there’s someone there to catch you.)</p><p> In the raw, authentic awkwardness of one Kara Danvers, Supergirl finds her way, Lena cradled in her arms, to the couch. She sits and feels some of the tension in Lena’s muscles leave, still, by how stiff she is, were she not steaming hot yet somehow shivering, hyperventilating yet somehow barely breathing, with green eyes seeking solace with no hope of finding it, Kara would think she was holding a stiff, slowly outgrowing rigor mortis.</p><p> It takes a while for either of them to speak again. When Lena regains control over her vocal chords, her voice is hoarse and quiet.</p><p> “Fuck you,” she croaks with the intonation of <em>I love you.</em></p><p> Kara sighs and furrows her brow with the intonation of <em>You scared the shit out of me.</em></p><p> Lena avoids her gaze, a coaxed apology.</p><p> It’s an entire conversation had in sighs and glances and insults mispronounced, the way only married couples that have been together so long they’ve forgotten which anniversary they’re celebrating do. A conversation that screams <em>You’re the best, worst thing that’s ever happened to me.</em></p><p> It’s with the quirk of a finger that Lena realizes she’s regained mobility. But Kara, flush against her, is warm as furnace, and she feigns paralysis for a few more precious moments. Kara can tell. Of course she can tell, she can always tell when it comes to Lena. Her muscles have lost their tension long ago. But she doesn’t say anything. She, too, takes comfort in the closeness and warmth of the woman resting so comfortably in her arms.</p><p> As Kara’s eyes begin to slip shut, Lena brings her palm to Kara’s cheek, parting her lips ever so carefully to speak, “What do you want from me?” a sound utmost broken and melodic.</p><p> This time Kara doesn’t hesitate. With eyes heavy with sleep but mind wide awake, she says, “You.”</p><p> A tear rolls down her cheek like summer rain into the sea, dropping onto Lena’s, and still the sea is salt. And it’s just as ill-advised as it is vital and fated to happen, lips collide like lovers just now realizing they are mortal, like stardust reuniting, like the right combination of words finally coming together in the realization that perfection isn’t necessary, it’s unachievable, but this, this is enough.</p><p> And there will come a time when this moment will end but for now there is only the present and in the present live only them, it is their kingdom to rule, to do whatever they want to, and they want, more than anything, to be close to each other once again.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>i do appreciate comments, a tremendous amount</p></blockquote></div></div>
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